"I mean," Rela made a show of patting the bedcovers of Qui-Gon's plain and unadorned standard Jedi bed, "Dimallie can have a little rest here out of harms way. If we keep the lights low then she won't be disturbed too much?and we can put an emergency bucket by the side in easy reach. And if you want to sit with her for a while to make sure she's settled then Jemmy won't mind." Leona watched her hand ruffling the top sheet. "I'm sure this will be ever so comfortable."

"Yes," The healer sighed almost inaudibly, "I'm sure it would be. For Dimallie, I mean." She added hastily, lest Rela take her meaning the wrong way which, judging by the wry grin plastered across the bartender's face, she almost certainly had. "It's very?simple and stark in here. Not that I had any pre-conceived ideas what it might be like." This time she stammered out the rapid elaboration so quickly that Rela could hardly understand the words.

"Is anything more stark and dreary than the beds in the infirmary?" Rela countered, standing away from the bed and edging slowly towards the trunk. "For the life of me I just can't understand why you healers think that turning off the heating and being the filling in a starched-sheet sandwich is an inducement to recover? A person can't even turn over in those sheets! Are you so afraid that the patients might fall out the side that you feel obliged to trap them in the bedding?"

"No." Leona took the jibe with her customary good nature. "It's to stop people from wandering away when they should be lying down, or gallivanting around the infirmary in a wheel chair or repulsar lift seat! I can't think why everyone is so set on vilifying we poor healers for doing our job."

"Maybe if you stop trying to poison the patients with that filthy muck you serve up as food?" Suggested Rela with a shrug, now standing purposely beside the chest. "Is there any truth in the rumour that Ferdi grinds up and purees the initiates that don't make it through the night and feeds them to the other patients? I'm all for recycling waste, but that's taking a bit too far if you ask me?"

Leona opened and closed her mouth like a fish gasping for air. "It is not true!"

"What, just the padawans then?"

The healer shook her head, refusing to be baited. She would have to learn to stop taking everything so seriously! Here she was, in Qui-Gon's room - a dream if every female Jedi was allowed to admit to one - and she was bantering about eating patients and imprisoning them in flypaper-like bed linen. Casting her eyes over the room she couldn't help but smile inwardly as she noticed how much the room reflected the Jedi she had admired for so long. There were few possessions that she could see to personalise his sleeping quarters, except for four holos: one on each wall.

The first was that of a tall young man with strong cheekbones and sea-blue eyes, stood beside a taller, older male with dark hair. Qui-Gon and his own master, Leona realised. The second was that of Qui-Gon and his first padawan, G'emela Lothric?the third with his current padawan, Obi-Wan. The fourth filled a space on the wall that had a dark shadow around the holo, as if it had replaced a larger image with its smaller presence. The little girl with the large copper eyes and wide, impish grin was clearly that of a younger Jemmiah Gleshan. Instinctively Leona ran her fingers around the holo frame, sensing the void that had been left by the earlier holo. What could it have been? And why had it been removed?

Xanatos, Leona thought with a shudder. The young man's image had once hung where Jemmiah's now resided: Qui-Gon had removed his holo just as he had removed the dark memory from his life. Symbolically it seemed that the Jedi had replaced the void with one deemed to be more worthy of his time and affection. Aware that Rela's eyes were upon her Leona turned her attention to the furniture in Qui-Gon's room. Everything was clean and in its proper place. All clothing was packed away out of sight. The only items that remained on display were a large; smooth

Jemmy pouted. "That's the ten million credit question, isn't it? Perhaps when agoraphobic anonymous have finished in there you might be able to join the queue waiting to get in!"

Yep! I knew Rela would put the whip in the chest! LOL!!

Sorry I've been AWOL... life is almost back to normal and I've started on a post but I do have to get ready for Amidolee's visit next week. Plus there's the small exercise of buying Christmas pressies for everyone...

::glomps Calam:: One week!! MWHAHAHAHA!! No, really, I'm perfectly calm and in control. Just disturbingly bored hanging around campus for an exam, and then waiting for the train tickets to come in the post, and then SQUEE!!

"Look," Jemmy leaned forward on her hands and knees to get a better look at Dizzy's predicament; "can't you do anything to get free? I mean, you're a Wookiee, for the love of the force! One of the galaxy's strongest, mightiest beings! You're supposed to be powerful enough to snap a Gundark in two with your bare hands: and you let a little thing like a fresher get the better of you?"

Dizzy sat mournfully with his head in both hands; his body dejectedly slumped forward. He doubted he'd ever felt so mortified in all his days which, considering he'd known Mungo for over half of them, was quite a feat in itself. He'd heard humiliating tales of persons who had been found dead whilst sitting on the fresher, something which Dizzy considered terribly embarrassing.

Now he wished he were dead. At least that way he wouldn't have to endure the snerks and snickers from Mus and Mungo, or the gentle wuffling laughter of Rusty, not to mention Jemmiah's death-glares?

"This is the worst day of my life." He replied through hairy, sound-muffling hands.

"Don't be silly." Jemmiah dismissed his self pity with a toss of her head. "That will be when I tell Gussie what you're planning for your bachelor's party and when she murders you for turning up your wedding kriff-drunk."

If it was possible for a Wookiee to pale visibly, Jemmy considered, that was what had happened to Dizzy. He shifted awkwardly inasmuch as his current position would allow him, knowing there was little he could do to persuade Jemmiah not to tell Flint - who would inevitably tell Gussie, who would in turn dismember him for spoiling her big day - if she so wished. And all because he was stuck on her guardian's fresher! The idea of an enraged Gussie did not bear thinking about! She was usually sweetness and gentleness personified, but there had been that one worrying occasion where she had bitten the leg off a barstool just to prove a point?

"I assure you," he rrrowled to himself, "that I have no plans to turn up to my wedding in a non-sober state. That is why I have asked Mungo and Mus to make sure that I do not exceed my hooch tolerance limit."

"Mungo's the best man, isn't he?" Jemmy queried, shooting a dubious look at the individual in question. "Or Wookiee, in this instance? Because if he is I'd say there's not a Hutt in hell's chance of you turning up sober for the big day. I'll lay odds of five to one that you end up shaved and tied to a railing someplace on Alderaan?"

"I should take exception to this." Mungo placed both his hands intimidatingly on his hips. "But I won't."

"And why is that?" Jemmy frowned.

"Because you've given me the most wonderful idea for Dizzy's party!" He grinned toothily, suddenly rubbing his paws together. "Why, it is almost worthy of a Wookiee!"

"I am a Wookiee!" Retorted Jemmiah, squinting round the back of Dizzy's overhanging fur to where the fresher was plumbed in to the wall. "You all made me an honorary one when I was ten, remember? I am the galaxy's smallest Wookiee?and more to the point I am Gussie's bridesmaid! Didn't know that, did you?" She winked up at the clearly terrified Dizzy. "I am so looking forward to seeing you crash your way up the little wooden aisle, through all the overhanging tree branches, without you falling flat on your face! And by the way," she stood up suddenly, pointing at the fresher, "I think I've worked out what's wrong here."

"You have?" Mungo chewed anxiously at his lip. "What is it?"

"He's stuck."

All of the Wookiees stared blankly at each other.

"Corellian humour is clearly too overdeveloped for your cultured tastes, gentlemen." Jemmy sniffed. "The only thing I can suggest - much as it breaks my heart to say it - is to call out the emergency services. With a bit of luck they'll be able to free you without resorting to smashing up Qui-Gee's fresher. And maybe take some holos for their journal." She added with a wink. "I'll bet they don't see too many Wookiees stuck in freshers!"

"I will not allow them in!" Growled Dizzy petulantly, thumping both sides o

Keeping the taller girl in front of her as they walked back toward Qui-Gon?s, Rela gave her a friendly warning.

?I don?t take too kindly to people that throw up on me,? the redhead informed Dimallie as the former kept her arms straight out in front of her guiding yet still trying to protect herself. ?If you?re about to spew give me some kind of warning. I really don?t care to have my clothes ruined tonight.?

Poor Dimallie nodded her head in agreement while keeping her hand clutched over her mouth. Rela moved close enough to give her a supportive pat on the back.

Once they reached the bedroom, Rela maneuvered around Dimallie enough to open the door yet still not be in the line of fire. Ushering Leona?s padawan through the door, Rela was really quite surprised to find the girl?s master empty handed. No sign of a guilty blush on her face, but more of a dejected and crushed look. That wasn?t right!

?Here she is, and so far she been able to keep everything down,? Rela told Leona while at the same time trying to study her closer.

The healer in Leona came out full force as she walked over and began mothering Dimallie leading the girl toward the bed. Rela realized she was no longer needed and took that time to begin her escape. As the redhead neared the door she looked back as Leona helped Dimallie get as comfortable as possible.

?Watch out for those pillows!? Rela warned them. ?They?ve got a weird funk to them.?

She waited for some sort of reply before slipping out, and when Leona didn?t grace her with a defensive reply for Qui-Gon she left closing the door behind her.

?The plan has gone bad.? Rela told herself as she heard the echo of a wookiee scream bounce out of the ?fresher. She began to make her way over to see what kind of trouble was happening now and what could she do to escalate it.

Yay for Rela, the havoc creator! She's the kind of person who goes looking for trouble: and then trouble runs away from her! At least she realised that things hadn't gone as well as they should have regarding poor Leona, but then we all know that has a happier ending in 'A Night to (almost) Remember'. Keep the mayhem flag flying, Mouse!

************

"Grab hold of his arms." Jemmy commanded sternly, trying her best to rally the troops in the face of adversity. "And then on the count of three I want you to pull for all you are worth, got that?"

Mungo scratched thoughtfully at his head. "We already tried that." He felt obliged to point out in his gentle, rumbling Wookiee tones. "It didn't work."

"Yeah, but you tried to pull him upward." Sighed Jemmiah, feeling the need to vent all her frustrations on the hapless Dizzy and his accomplices. "Let's try pulling him forward and see if that doesn't work. I mean, sure," she shook her head, the weight of Mungo's sceptical stare upon her, "the chances are it won't work. But what's the worst that can happen now? We call someone, they come round and extract Dizzy from Master J's fresher, and he's bundled off to the infirmary to check the blood supply to his furry behind is okay. Sure as heck wouldn't want that turning black and falling off!" Jemmy grinned nastily at Dizzy. "Best case scenario is that we pull him off, and get an expert in to repair any damage to Quiggy's plumbing."

"Qui-Gon's got trouble with his waterworks, has he?" Rela asked curiously, popping her head around the door. "There's a little healer person not a door away who is just dying to get her hands on?"

"Shush!" Jemmy laughed, putting a silencing finger to her lips. "Help me direct this group of misfits, would you? We're going to pull Dizzy off the fresher."

"Isn't he big enough and ugly enough to go by himself?" The redhead wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Forgive me, but potty training a two hundred year old Wookiee isn't my idea of fun."

Jemmiah resisted the urge to bash her head against the fresher wall by the smallest of margins, and set her face in a sweet smile.

"He's stuck." She pointed unnecessarily at the defenceless Dizzy. "I can't just leave him there."

Jemmy started to tick the reasons off on her fingers. "For a start," she felt obliged to point out, "What's Qui-Gon or Ben going to do when they want to use the fresher, huh? Stand on the balcony and bare their backsides to the four winds? Secondly he," She stabbed a vicious looking finger in Dizzy's direction, "is not even supposed to be in here! And thirdly he makes the place look untidy!"

"Well," Rela admitted, "I hadn't wanted to say anything but it is rather crowded in here. I thought there was some kind of galactic record attempt going on, you know? See how many Wookiees you can fit into a bathroom?"

"That so doesn't help me." Jemmy grumbled, slapping the fresher brush down by her side.

Rela squeezed her way past the equally useless Mus and Rusty, taking great delight in examining poor Dizzy from every available side. Brute force could only achieve so much if that was indeed Jemmiah's aim: it might succeed in freeing Dizzy if he was lucky but would more likely wreck Qui-Gon's fresher and probably flood his apartment in the process. Jemmy was full of wonderful ideas, Rela reflected with a sigh, but she never seemed to think them through properly. From what she had gathered from her enquiries they either worked or they didn't. If they did then they tended to be brilliant, verging on the insane. If they didn't then they usually saw her temporarily banished to Corellia, or alternatively to the infirmary. Even in the few meagre weeks they'd known each other it was enough to win Rela's utmost respect, but it left her feeling secretly afraid for her friend.

Poor Dizzy! He's going to come out of this with nothing but a bare bottom. His dignity is going to be in tatters!

"For a start," she felt obliged to point out, "What's Qui-Gon or Ben going to do when they want to use the fresher, huh? Stand on the balcony and bare their backsides to the four winds? Secondly he," She stabbed a vicious looking finger in Dizzy's direction, "is not even supposed to be in here! And thirdly he makes the place look untidy!"

And forthly it'd ruin Benbeau Day. But I'm sure there won't be too many complaints about Obi and Qui baring their backsides. Especially from the female population!

Rela's not trying to be mean. If she was she wouldn't be so subtle about it. As for the party, despite what Jemmy may protest she could have said no.

Ackkk Mouse, kick me when you post. I missed one from a week ago. Leave it to Rela to try and stir things up, but if I heard a Wookiee Scream I don't know if I'd head in the direction of it. Poor Dimallie, she's always the one getting sick on any outing. LOL

Bariong their backside hmmmm?? Not one comment from me. Oh dear, they really are trashing the place aren't they?

Dex watched the little scene with amused detachment. At first Jemmiah had seemed just a fraction away from a total nervous breakdown - and given that she was using Qui-Gon's living quarters for a party-come-battlezone that was perfectly understandable - but then, having surveyed the extent of the damage she seemed to pull herself together. It was as if she appreciated that whatever disasters might yet befall the apartment it could hardly make anything worse, and with this in mind she held her head high with customary Corellian dignity and tried to make a mental inventory of what precisely she could correct/repair before Qui-Gon returned.

For once it seemed as if Jay Abran actually understood how she was feeling and, with a rare degree of sympathy placed a comforting arm around her shoulder. It was a bit difficult to see the extent of the damage to the place, especially when the room was packed full of knights and padawans. Some strange belly-dancing contest was going on in the corner, with the usually shy and quiet Kylenn Imri wiggling and undulating to such an extent that every male jaw in the room seemed to unhinge. Padawan Perris was engaged in some ritualistic gymnastic contortion, whilst Letina Sorrell (rather the worse for a few bowls of punch) had slumped into one of Qui-Gon's few undamaged chairs and was murmuring to it as she drifted into alcoholic oblivion. It was always the quiet ones you had to watch, Dex observed with a wry smile. Invariably when it came to parties the quiet ones became noisy and the exuberant ones went all shy or fretful.

One such case in point was Rela Quinn. Dex couldn't say he knew her terribly well although he had heard plenty about her from Qui-Gon, enough for him to categorise her as intelligent, restless and boisterous. Now, when she should be all of those things he found her to be standing apart from the main body of partygoers with a grim expression on her face. Yet as far as he could tell she hadn't so much as touched a drop of alcohol, and so the cause of her uncharacteristic depression was baffling.

Well, he was no expert on the complexities of human nature. He was so shockingly good-natured himself that he always found it difficult to understand how people could be any different. No doubt the red haired young woman would find a way to resolve her problems if she was anywhere near as intelligent as Qui-Gon led him to believe. In the meantime it was perhaps within his meagre abilities to offer some help to Jemmiah, or at the very least buy her some time.

"The, er, Wookiee is still trapped then?" Dex walked up to Jemmiah, who answered with a dejected sigh and a slump of the shoulders. "The others seem to have caused a bit of damage?"

"It's my fault." Jemmy admitted, looking distinctly crestfallen. "I always seem to think I can solve everything if I just work at it long enough. Thing is I usually end up making a problem fifty times worse. If I hadn't insisted they pull Dizzy out by the arms then Qui-Gon's sofa wouldn't have ended up damaged by the Wookiee flying brigade."

"It's not your fault." Jay insisted. "Anyhow, what's wrong in trying to find a solution to a problem? It's one of the things I like best about you. You have tremendous enthusiasm. You throw yourself at everything with such energy. Including me." He added with a wicked grin, realising he might get a slap on the ear for his sheer impudence. "You have lots of good points. I can see two of them from here?" He cast a sneaky glance down the front of Jemmiah's top.

"Oh, be quiet you." Jemmy growled, although a smile had ventured back on her lips at long last. "Mungo has promised me that they will pay for the damage, so at least that's something. The question is, how do I stop Qui-Gon from killing me before I explain the situation?"

Dex frowned. "Hmmm. Well, possibly I might be able to do something on that score. You see, when I was a young boy I found I had a skill when it came to duplicity and deviousness. The force can do a lot of things, you know. Mind tricks, levitation?you name it. And alth

Trust Dexy to try and put fears to ease by showing how to make everything look as if it's okay, and the blame gets put on Obi. Personally I'd rather see what happens if Qui sat on the sofa causing it to collapse. I think he might still put Obi on a diet.